Hamnet by Maggie O’Farrell 

ARC from Netgalley for an honest review 

Book Blurb:

Warwickshire in the 1580s. Agnes is a woman as feared as she is sought after for her unusual gifts. She settles with her husband in Henley street, Stratford, and has three children: a daughter, Susanna, and then twins, Hamnet and Judith. The boy, Hamnet, dies in 1596, aged eleven. Four years or so later, the husband writes a play called Hamlet.

My Review: 4 stars

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Hamnet, by Maggie O’Farrell, gives life to a story that is often only mentioned in footnotes. Little is known about Hamnet, Shakespeare’s young son who died at the young age of 11, just years before  Shakespeare pens one of his most famous plays, Hamlet. This book brings Hamnet’s short life a revival of sorts. I’m usually wary of reading fictionalized events of real people, especially when so little is actually known about the titular character, but I really enjoyed this book.

One of my favorite parts about this book is that William Shakespeare is never referred to by name, only as: the father, the son, the husband. When he’s in London working on his plays and writing, we’re never transported there with him. We learn about what he’s doing through letters to his family or bits of information from townspeople. This makes the story less about him as a person and more about his marriage, his children and their stories. It focuses on the lives of those closest to him and what shaped  “the father” into who he was, all through the lens of his youngest son’s first 11 years of life, and the aftermath of his death.

O’Farrell’s writing is absolutely beautiful, but sometimes it was simply overdone. There were too many cliches, too superfluous with descriptions that weren’t needed. At times, it felt like she was writing just to write with as much descriptive language as possible, but it wasn’t to move the story along. During these long-winded bits, I found myself getting stalled in the story, but overall it was a tale I’m glad I read.

Quotes I liked:

Every life has its kernel, its hub, its epicentre, from which everything flows out, to which everything returns.”

“What is given may be taken away, at any time. Cruelty and devastation wait for you around corners, inside coffers, behind doors: they can leap out at you at any time, like a thief or brigand. The trick is never to let down your guard. Never think you are safe. Never take for granted that your children’s hearts beat, that they sup milk, that they draw breath, that they walk and speak and smile and argue and play. Never for a moment forget they may be gone, snatched from you, in the blink of an eye, borne away from you like thistledown.”

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